


That’s the Game, Darling

by Snow_drop_leaves137



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Cliche af, Does this count as geopolitics?, Enemies to Partners, Eren is prob a lil OOC, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, F/M, Flirty Eren Yeager, Potential treason? lol, Sexual Tension, Spies Crap, non-canon related like at all, season 4 eren - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:54:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28586787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snow_drop_leaves137/pseuds/Snow_drop_leaves137
Summary: “Agent L/N,” he purred.“Yeager,” you nearly sneered.What are the odds that Eren was there to sabotage your mission?100%.And now he wants to defect?Like hell he will.Modern - Spies AU FIC
Relationships: Eren Yeager/Reader, Mikasa Ackerman/Jean Kirstein
Comments: 14
Kudos: 64





	1. Mission gone awry

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Why work on my current series that need updates when I can just start new ones? Literally I saw a fanart of Eren in the new scouts outfit and my very not sober mind at the time went GO WRITE A SPIES AU. So here it is. Apologies for any horrible inaccuracies. I know nothing about espionage and admittedly just watch a fuck ton of Archer. 
> 
> **BTW there's not really canon here lol, especially with Eren's character.**
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Attack on Titan.

“How long do I have until security kicks back on?”

“10 minutes. Better hurry F/N,” the crisp voice answers snugly in your earpiece.

“I always do, Armin,” you chortle, in your usual overconfident manner. 

Once the last screw is knocked loose, you unhinge the cover to the large overhead vent and lift yourself up and into its wide tunnels. It’s humid and smells exactly as you imagined it would - utterly unpleasant. 

You tug your ski mask higher up your nose to protect yourself against the layers of unsettled dust in these ducts. Clearly, no one else has ventured this way in quite some time. Your black, spandex bodysuit hugs you tightly as you crawl your way through the dirty, mismanaged vents. 

After months of recon and strategizing, you’ve finally infiltrated Marley’s central intelligence building. Even in the dead of night, the place gives you the creeps and you’re sure there are a couple agents staying well past their hours, assuming their bosses would reward their overburdened behavior. Armin assured you that the chances of running into anyone else is low but emphasized that it is not nonexistent. You’re happy to take those chances. 

You take care to leave no trail and swallow any noises that dare escape. Would be a real shame if you didn’t execute this perfectly. At the very least, you knew these passages inside and out after drawing countless blueprints of this place. If you had to pencil any more parallel lines this trip, you’re going to be sick. 

Exhilaration pumps through your veins and you can’t help the crescendo of excitement now that this mission is finally happening. You’ve been staying in this country’s capital undercover for nearly two months and you’re aching to go home to Paradis. The local cuisine here just isn’t doing it for you. 

As you crawl through the dark tunnels with only a dull flashlight to guide your path, you find the silence around you unsettling. It won’t be long until the agency realizes you’ve breached their system. 

Better move quickly. 

After following Armin’s careful instructions, you soon find yourself above the room you’ve been seeking. You kick through the vent opening with little difficulty, and are relieved to see the detached piece land on a well placed couch below, sparing any loud clamorings. You ungraciously slither your way out of the rectangular passageways and land softly on the pale blue cushions. There’s really no elegant way to exit a filthy vent. 

Dusting yourself off and pulling your mask down, you stretch your numbing limbs as you drag your eyes around the cozy space. Although all the lights are off, the room is illuminated by the shine of the street lamps, coming in brightly through the large, bay windows. One side of the room has a huge shelf lined entirely of books, while paintings of the royal family sit hanging on every other wall. You scoff at the level of pretentiousness these decorations speak to. You did consider running your hands through the books just to feel their leatherbound spines, but instead chose to walk yourself towards the centerpiece of the study.

The desk before you hosts scattered papers that form barely separate piles, filed haphazardly across the surface. Despite the disorder, you knew exactly where to look.

Following your informant's instructions, you ghost a hand over the drawers on the right side of the table and feel a small lever that barely protrudes out. Pushing it, you hear a tiny click and the piece of plywood swings to the side, revealing a keycode access pad.

Jackpot.

You’re grateful that your informant, codename Titan, pulled through with this info tonight. They haven’t always been consistent with providing you much needed information, but relations between Paradis and Marley have been so strained, even having an informant is a blessing. 

Armin should have been able to crack into the safe's defenses by now. 

“Okay, ready whenever you are,” you whisper into your mic, kneeling down to face the dimly lit numbers at eye level. 

Silence is met on the other end.

You frown as you adjust your hearing device and try again.

“Armin? Buddy, I need the code,” you inquire once more, tapping an impatient finger against the top of the smoothe, black keypad.

And then you heard it.

His deep voice slithered out of the darkness, wrapping deliciously around your ears. It prickles your skin, dragging goosebumps along the way towards your core.

“Agent L/N.”

Fuck.

Shooting your gaze over the desk, you brace yourself for the intrusion. Only to see the owner of this godforsaken office point his shiny, obsidian pistol at you. 

Clenching your jaw, you bolt up onto both feet and immediately draw your glock from its holster as you point it right back into the man’s face. You inwardly curse yourself for not hearing any noise indicating his presence entered the room. It’s the damn carpet, you suppose. 

“Yeager,” you nearly sneer as your gaze stays trained on the dangerous individual. Your eyes feel strained against the dark but you can’t afford to look away from this man.

Eren Yeager. Next in line as the successor to the throne of Marley. His elder brother Zeke sits as the country’s reigning King for several years now. However, his kingdom recently made some questionable domestic moves that are tickling into international waters. The reverberating waves have grown large enough to be of concern to the Island of Paradis, thus why you find yourself in Eren’s study at this moment. 

Your mouth coats with a bitter taste and a snarl finds itself into your features. The last time you saw the man, you were tied to a simple office chair in a deserted warehouse, stripped of all your weapons. 

Waiting to be tortured.

When your team managed to retrieve you, you nearly wept in your partner’s arms as she clutched onto your desperate embrace. The marks left by the rope imprinted distressed marks in your skin that filled you with rage for weeks each time you glimpsed at the reminders.

“How did you know?” you grind out, honestly angry that he’s here even if this is his own goddamn office. 

Eren tsked his tongue. “Not even a proper hello, darling?” he mocks. 

“Not when it comes to you, Princey,” you spit out.

Neither of you were fond of the nicknames you have developed for each other. You also weren’t fond that the two of you have seen each other enough times to even warrant pet names. Running into Eren is almost inevitable on your current series of missions. Figures Marley’s head of intelligence wouldn’t want you snooping around their classified files. 

“I take it, you’re looking for this?” Eren pulls out a slim, silver hard disk drive.

Your sight narrows and you scowl at the valuable datadrive, wishing it was sitting securely in your pocket instead. Guess breaking into the safe wouldn’t have done you any favors. 

Your team has suspected that Marley has been developing their own nuclear weapons and may be planning to launch them overseas. Paradis is only a couple hundred miles off the coast of Marley, making your home country a very viable target. That life-changing information likely sits in the hard disk in his very hands. 

“I thought you were partying in the beautiful sandy beaches of Hizuru,” you say dryly. You convinced yourself that you weren’t envious when you tracked his social media accounts, seeing him splayed out on the white shores, in nothing but his well-fitted swim trunks. 

A smirk dances on Eren’s face as he chuckles, placing the hard drive in the inside of his dark, loose jacket. “Decided to come back early, just in time to find this delightful surprise.”

As he was speaking, you used minimal movements to press the tips of your right thumb and ring finger together around your trigger, tapping three times.

Transmitting a signal that you no longer have control over the situation. 

“Are you trying to contact your remote operator? Armin, was it?” he says slyly before showing you a small black box dangling in between his fingers. A signal jammer. Of course. 

You stop tapping your fingers together.

“Not anymore, I’m not,” you sigh. Wariness fills your senses and you force yourself to breathe deeply to calm your shaken nerves. You can’t let him pick up on your building distress.

Keeping your eyes locked on the immediate threat, you assess your chances of overtaking Eren and taking the drive by force. Unfortunately, they’re looking pretty slim. The whole point of spending months in this royal-loving country was to take advantage of an opportune time to steal the intel without any resistance. 

Clearly, you miscalculated. A mistake you don’t make often. You briefly wonder if this one will finally cost you. Those thoughts do nothing to quell the panic that’s fueling pressure into your current circumstances. 

“I can’t let you have this,” Eren says dangerously. “It’s best if you leave.”

“Not without what’s on that drive,” you say, still keeping your weapon trained on him. You huff as you continue sarcastically, “ I need to know if you’re gonna blow up my country. So we can at least throw one last island-wide farewell party.”

He smirks in amusement but doesn’t let up on his resolve. Your eyes narrow as you’ve learned that once Eren sets his mind on something, nothing short of an apocalypse can change his mind. Scratch that, even then he’ll still relent. 

You’re at an impasse. 

Looking closer at Eren’s posture, you let yourself drink in his handsome features from his lean, muscular frame, to the tight bun of hair that’s missing a couple strands which dangle off his head. Of course, you linger on his vibrant green eyes that are too pretty for his own good. Your eyes continue to rake themselves down his smooth, tan face, resting on the spokes of hair above and surrounding his mouth. You wrinkle your nose at the new sight.

“You grew a goatee? It’s looking patchy,” you offer unsolicited critique of his grooming choices.

Eren reaches a couple of fingers along the facial hair he was growing out, humming as he traces them along. “ You don’t like it? Shame.” 

His expression turns serious as he tightens his grip on his gun and clicks his tongue.

“As much as I’m enjoying this back and forth, I’m willing to call a truce. I keep this disk. You leave unharmed.You have five minutes to escape before my guards arrive,” he says without any room for negotiation. 

“Why not chance that I’m a quicker shot than you?” you ask, finger itching to pull. 

“The shots will immediately alert the guards. You’re in my territory, I wouldn’t advise it.”

Biting your bottom lip, you almost howl out of frustration as you know he’s right. 

Eren chuckles before clicking back the hammer of his gun, allowing a bullet to enter its chamber. Your eyes widen at his movement. Son-of-a-bitch didn't have his firearm loaded this entire time? It’s too goddamn dark for you to make out anything. 

“I won’t ask you again.” 

You narrow your eyes at him suspiciously. Eren wants you to escape. If he sought to kill you, he would have done so by now. You also wonder why he hasn’t alerted security immediately. 

But he’s offering you a chance to leave unscathed. This mission is already a failure. No point in risking your life without any possible gains. 

“Fine. But I’ll be seeing you around, Eren,” you taunt, refusing to let him think he’s won the long game.

"I'm sure you will,” the man practically purrs, gesturing with his gun for you to move along. 

Holstering your weapon, you stretch yourself to reach for the vent, ignoring Eren’s gaze that absorbs your every move. You swiftly pull the rest of your body through the space as you shimmy your way back through the uninviting tunnels. Gritting your teeth, you silently seethe as you push yourself as fast as you can through the vents. 

You wanted nothing more than to get out of here. Halfway through your escape, your earpiece crackles alive.

“F/N! You’re finally back online!” Armin’s relieved voice comes through.

“Yeah. But, you’re not going to like what I have to report.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This may be slow to update as I'm parsing out the details. Thanks for reading!


	2. Defect, My Ass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Attack on Titan.

**_Eren Yeager, Prince of Marley, pronounced dead in a private jet crash._ **

The news took the world by storm. Even a couple days after the initial reporting unleashed, it’s still trending on several search engines and media platforms. 

You skip over all the other speculations in the newest article about what this means for Marley's government and next successor.

A strange feeling seeps into your tired body. You attribute it to the reminder that you’re all mortal, walking aimlessly on this earth until you can do so no longer.

At the end of the day, you’re merely human. 

“You look like shit.”

You sigh and muster enough energy to throw a deep glare at the other agent.

“Fuck off Kirstein, too early.” 

Jean grins as he knows there’s no bite to your bark.

It is too early. Why the hell is Levi requesting a meeting at half past six this morning? What could possibly be so important he had to drag your entire team into the office like this? You’re pissed you were denied the option to join via video conference instead. Having only reentered the country a few hours ago, barely sleeping a wink on the rocky flight, you’re exhausted. You didn’t even bother trying to soothe your appearance beyond unleashing an entire trial size bottle of dry shampoo. 

“Any reason you’re in a particularly foul mood?” the copper-toned brunette with a blunt mouth asks, sliding into step next to you. You bring out your keycard and slap it a little too loudly against the sensitive reader. It beeps and the doors glide open, allowing you both to pass through quickly. 

“Levi’s about to spread my ass wide open,” you grumble, inhaling another sip of your scorching, black coffee. It’s burnt, but any sort of caffeine is welcome at this stage in the morning. 

“Sounds hot,” Jean taunts, smirking down at you. He knew you meant it in not a good way. Before you can gripe to him any further, a voice interrupts your bitter thoughts. 

The familiar ring of your name travels down the deserted, half-lite hallway. The amiable man who called for you brings one hand up to wave enthusiastically, while the other clutches a worn notebook and his own steaming cup of coffee. 

He stands right outside the usual conference room, waiting for you and Jean to catch up.

“Good morning,” your freckled teammate delightfully beams once you walk over, inevitably drawing a ghost of a smile on your lips. 

“Morning Marco,” you greet, edging more warmth in your tone. His energy is too contagious for even a grouch like you. 

You squint your eyes against the blinding, overhead lights that assault your senses when you enter the large meeting space. Marco and Jean move towards their usual seats on the right side of the long, cherrywood, rectangular table that sits perfectly centered in the room. On the other end, you find your usual seat buddy, early as predicted. 

“Armin,” you greet, dropping yourself into the white, leather chair next to your close comrade. 

“F/N,” the blonde man smiles your way, baby blues lighting up in your presence. Out of everyone on your team, you feel the most bonded with your remote operator. Not only because your life is literally in his hands when you’re out on missions. His intelligence and analytical reasoning has helped challenge your views on certain missions and you trusted him with your conscience. 

“Any idea why Levi made us wake up at the ass crack of dawn for this shit?” you mumble, resting your eyes for a few, needed moments.

“No,” he answers dejectedly and you hear him shuffle around some of his papers, “But we’ll find out soon enough.”

As if on cue, you hear someone clear his voice at the front of the room, and you peel open your fatigued orbs to see your boss walk in, taking a prolonged sip from his mug of steaming tea. Even though there is a perfectly good handle for him to loop his fingers through, he habitually clutches his cup by the rim with the tips of his fingers instead. 

Weird ass, old man. (He’s really not; he’s literally only a decade older than you).

“Erwin insisted I gather you all here this morning. He said it was urgent,” Levi launches in, without even a hello.

All eyes dart towards the front of the room and you hold your breath at the name.

“Erwin Smith?” Jean asks, just to double check he heard that correctly.

Levi nods, as if there was any other Erwin he could have possibly referred to. He places his simple, black mug on the wooden table, before crossing his arms while remaining standing. 

The day Paradis Intelligence Agency’s (PIA) Director asks for your presence like this can not be a _good_ day. You instantly straighten your posture, suddenly feeling more on the edge of your seat.

“Did he give any clue as to what this may be about?” Marco asks hesitantly, racking his brain for any possible insight.

“Probably in regards to Marley,” Levi responds, turning to look your way. You swallow and reach for your coffee. Anything to cut away from his steely gaze. 

Is the Director really coming down here to chew you out in front of your colleagues? You sincerely hope not.

Speak of the devil. The commanding, top-ranked official knocks once against the open door frame before striding in, instantly chilling the air with his authority. 

You quickly stand from your seat and place one hand on top of the other in front of you, and bow slightly to show respect for your Director. A quick echoing of chairs being pushed back follows as your comrades rush to do the same. 

“Erwin,” Levi nods in a deferential manner to his superior. 

“Levi. Thank you for gathering your team on such short notice,” Erwin addresses, standing tall next to the other man.

Erwin was appointed as Director for your agency several years ago and has changed the direction of PIA by pushing for more aggressive intelligence surveillance against other nations. The executive is renowned for his lion heart and fierce dedication to the safety and prosperity of Paradis, by any means possible. Often gambling on critical decisions that would reap the highest reward, despite the harrowing risks. 

Meanwhile, Levi leads your covert ops team and was a fierce field operative with over a decade of frontline experience under his belt. His sharp words against ineptitude and intolerance for inefficiencies has skyrocketed him towards the top of the organization and strikes deep admiration among the other executives. Even when he’s faced with the utmost pressure in his missions, he stands his ground and refuses to concede without exploring every possible path to victory. His loyalty is also unquestionable.

Despite the hierarchical difference between the men, both hold deep reverence for the other and have swayed an entire roomful of leaders from other agencies before.

Although you feel extremely competent and comfortable with your status as a top secret covert ops PIA agent, you know you carry nothing of influence compared to these two. 

“I understand that your team has been deep in the weeds, gathering intel on Marley’s government operations for years now. Your work has been very helpful and deeply appreciated,” Erwin starts off.

He shifts his broad stance, drawing a few wrinkles along his crisp, navy suit as he drills his sharp, cobalt eyes towards your team. 

“I also understand that lately you’ve been focusing on their potential nuclear plans and drew a few mishaps along the way,” he continues. Before Levi can interject and defend his team, Erwin cuts him off with a swift swipe of his hand. Levi closes his mouth and watches him intently, furrowing his dark eyebrows.

“Well, I have something that may be of use,” Erwin says, rather cryptically. Twisting his neck towards the door, he raises a hand and gestures at it. 

And the unthinkable happens.

_Eren walks through the door._

Eren **fucking** Yeager. 

Just when you didn’t think you would possibly feel any more tense, you suddenly felt _sick_.

“Hi,” he casually greets the room full of shell-shocked agents. 

You instantly flick open the button on your holster and wrap your hand around the cold, ridged handle of your gun, gripping it so tightly you start to lose circulation in your fingers. You try your best not to tremble in his presence. Mainly out of anger, but you would be lying if you didn’t admit you also felt the quiet licks of fear.

Armin hears the click and immediately clasps an assuring hand on your twitching left knee. You spin your wild gaze onto his, but your assurance drops when you absorb his paling face. 

You and the rest of your team look towards your supervisor in utter confusion, hoping for more clarity.

However, even Levi suppresses a look of surprise that begs to etch across his features. The only indication of his alarm is the subtle tightening of his grip on his arms.

All pairs of eyes then magnetize towards the Director who just invited an enemy into your building.

“What is the meaning of this,” you seethe. 

“Eren Yeager has willingly come to us with valuable information on Marley. Intel that we can use to dismantle their offenses and better protect Paradis,” Erwin answers coolly, taking stock of the heightened energy in the room.

"You’re not dead?" The disappointment is evident in Jean's voice. 

“I guess not,” Eren responds sarcastically to the rhetorical question. He rubs his cleanly shaven face as he speaks and you try really hard not to notice or replay part of your last conversation together. 

As you observe Erwin’s body language, nothing about his stance indicates that he perceives himself to be in any immediate danger. You begrudgingly unwrap yourself from your gun, and Armin withdraws his hand, still flickering his gaze over to you every now and then with concern.

“He will be working with your team to collaborate on your mission to destroy Marley’s nuclear program development,” Erwin continues. 

After the successful meeting at the 20th annual United Nations conference, it became against the world peace code to develop nuclear weapons. All countries agreed to safely dispose and cease their advancement. The deepest sanctions would be met if any country were to be caught funding such advancement.

However, sanctions won’t mean anything if your island gets blasted into oblivion. Erwin doesn’t need to explain the critical need of having Eren as an ally throughout this dangerous, vital recon mission. 

You all are well aware of the pressure your nation is facing. It would be pure chaos if Paradis citizens, or god forbid the _media_ , caught wind of such possible peril. 

Thus, it’s been your team’s job, specifically you as the lead, in nipping this threat in the bud before the rest of the world becomes aware. 

“What is he getting out of this?” Marco asks, cutting right to the chase. 

“In exchange for his cooperation, he has requested defection towards Paradis,” Erwin answers matter-of-factly.

“Defect my _chad-fucking ass_ ,” you scoff too loudly for Levi’s taste. You’re surprised he didn’t come over to kick you out of your chair for your utter crassness. 

Eren has the nerve to quirk a grin at your words. 

“You expect us to believe you’re willing to go against your own royal family?” Armin asks, with a deep frown on his usually calm, pretty boy features. 

“I’m here, aren't I?” the Prince says, leaning against the wall that doubles as a whiteboard and inspects his cuticles, looking a little too comfortable in a room full of highly trained spies who won’t hesitate to murder him. “Besides, I have a sneaking suspicion it was Zeke who ordered the hit on my plane to begin with.”

“Why?” Armin continues pressing. 

“I’ve spent the last two years gathering intel on Zeke’s plan with the Marleyan government. I knew something was awry when a significant amount of our municipal funds were being funneled into an off-shore account. After some digging, I discovered that it has all been used towards weapons development. Nuclear of course,” Eren says.

“However, the correspondence I intercepted stated that they were planning on testing their weapons first off the tiny coastal city of Liberio before launching them overseas. I can’t in good conscience support that decision,” his face tightens with his explanation, drawing wrinkles along the edges of his forehead. 

The gravity of Eren’s confession regarding his county’s planned attack that rattles the security of your own nation sits heavy in the room. 

“Where’s your evidence?” you ask, narrowing your eyes as he spills whatever information he thinks he can feed your agency.

“Destroyed in the crash. It was on the drive you tried to extract on your last mission Agent L/N,” he says, lips tracing your name almost intimately. 

“Shocker. You should have handed it over when you had the chance then,” you say with bitterness on your tongue. 

He chuckles, knowing he doesn’t have a defense. “I know my country. I can’t risk outsiders screwing this up.”

“Okay, _Princey_ ,” you hiss out. 

Your malicious tone does nothing to rattle Eren as he continues speaking in a level-headed manner.

“No one cares more about Marleyan citizens than I do. Even if the people of Liberio aren't being targeted directly, the aftershock and radiation from the blasts will slowly kill them. The whole world, including my brother, thinks I’m dead. My best shot at protecting my people is to work with you all. Even if that means I can’t return to my country again,” he vouches for his self-sacrifice.

Although his words made logical sense, you just weren’t convinced. 

"Are you seriously buying this shit?" You blurt out unbelievably at your Director. For fuck's sake, this man had plans to _torture_ you nearly half a year ago. Did everyone forget?

“Agent L/N!” Levi scorches and you unwillingly flinch from the volume. 

Eren practically smirks where he stands, the glint in his hypnotizing eyes growing possibly brighter during the heated exchange. 

You wanted to jam your switchblade right through his jaw. (Or your tongue right down his throat. One of the two. Definitely the first.) 

Turning towards Erwin, Levi apologizes before asking the question that begs at your mind.

“Is my team authorized to use lethal force if necessary?” Levi asks.

“Of course,” Erwin responds before turning to Eren. “But I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“Cross my heart,” Eren says, proceeding to cross his hand above his organ and looking towards the ceiling. You can’t help but snort pretentiously, a sound that Jean clearly echoes. 

Peering over at Eren, you absorb his confident demeanor while standing in his enemy’s territory.

It’s a strange sight. Marley's head of intelligence is standing side by side with Paradis’ head as well and neither have made moves to subdue the other. 

It’s abundantly clear that Erwin is willing to take this chance. What choice do you have than to trust his judgement?

“Erwin, we’ll see to it that Eren is extremely aware of the expectations of my team,” he smoothly says to the stony-faced Director. 

“Excellent.” Your Director then smoothly excuses himself, like he didn’t just drop a catalytic bomb in your world. 

This isn’t happening. 

“Get back to work,” Levi says, ignoring the whispers of your team behind you. “Follow me Eren,” he instructs, pivoting on his heel to leave the room. 

Eren nods and he trails behind Levi into his office, located just around the corner. 

This is apparently happening. 

Jean whistles slowly after they leave and looks towards you expectantly.

“I can’t fucking believe this,” you growl, rubbing the edges of your temples furiously. 

“This could be a real opportunity for us,” Marco dares to opinionate, the wheels already turning in his head.

“Tch. If we can believe anything that bastard says,” Jean remarks. 

You and Armin follow those two out of the conference room, continuing to try and wrap your head around this situation.

“Let’s talk later. Hange texted me seven times to come to their office with Marco,” Jean says, pulling out his phone to see yet another pressing message. The head of the weapons and research division is dogged in nature. It’s not wise to keep them waiting.

“I wonder what they have to show us this time,” Marco muses, before waving farewell to you and Armin to head towards the elevators.

You and your remaining teammate slowly pace to your wide, open cubicles that lay adjacent to each other.

"What do you think Armin?" you ask, finally collapsing on your sinking office chair that you haven’t seen in months. Despite your absence, your workspace is still clean, minus a few scatterings of loose papers. Levi requested in the budget for extra night cleaning, citing some nonsense about the staleness and filth affecting the work environment since his agents are often out and unable to clean their own desks diligently.

Armin shifts his gaze thoughtfully. 

"His reasoning makes sense. It takes a lot of guts to defy your family if you’re a royal. If everything Eren says is true, then it’s best for him to distance himself from his government’s heinous actions. Especially if the rest of the world catches wind of their breaches,” he thinks out loud. 

"Or it could be an elaborate ruse to infiltrate our ranks as a double agent,” he then counters himself.

"I vote the latter," you say dryly.

Armin chuckles, shaking his head so that the short clips of his flaxen hair flow with each quick turn.

"I knew you would," he says before placing an arm on your shoulder. "Good to have you back F/N."

He then returns to his desk, leaving you to your thoughts and mounds of backlogged paperwork.

* * *

You spend the next hour purging your emails, ignoring message after message from Ymir about your late expense reports. Each of her emails grow increasingly more foul. Moaning, you rub the edges of your strained eyes with the tips of your pointer fingers. You should just get those done. 

It’s not your fault Levi keeps assigning you back-to-back trips. That said, you are behind with five missions worth of finances and truthfully, the senior accountant has been more lenient then she has to be for your sake. You’re unsure why, but maybe Levi’s intern Historia has something to do with that. You caught Ymir staring at her more than a couple times and probably doesn’t want you speaking ill-will of her in front of the girl. 

Speaking of which, they should really get you an intern. You deserve another one. Not your fault your last intern was so deathly afraid of you, she quit after a week.

The agency really needs to increase their hiring standards.

Wait. You pause your typing to reflect on your failed supervision even further. You actually had another one before her. Who also quit within a week.

Either way, you still refuse to believe you deserve this much work on yourself.

Sighing, you get back to it, shuffling your eyes between your receipts and the payroll screen. It’s going to be a long, boring day at your desk. 

As you continue working, completely absorbed by the repetitive motions, you miss the silent pair of footsteps that cross into your office space.

“So diligent,” Eren says, smirking down at you, ruffling his dark jacket that’s draped over his forearms. 

Your fingers stop mid-way through your receipt number and you turn to glare at him.

“I take my job seriously,” you say, almost in a threatening manner that you know he won’t miss. 

“I expect nothing less,” he says, before pulling on his jacket, straightening out his collar, and crimping them under his bundle of chestnut hair. “Later, partner.”

“Partner?” The surprise in your voice was too much to hide. Wary eyes search his intense, bright green ones to find only amusement. 

“Guess you and I will be seeing a lot more of each other,” Eren says as he retreats his form. 

Your burning glare towards him is obvious. Eren evidently feels your negative attention and dares to turn around and _throws you a wink_ before he saunters around the corner and out of your sight.

Your jaw drops at his audacity. (And not at his tight ass that rubs nicely against his dark jeans.)

“Close your mouth, it’ll attract flies from that filthy drawer of yours,” Levi says, walking towards your cubicle to lean one of his arms against your open walls. 

“It’s not that filthy,” you rebut. 

“I found a fermented banana in there F/N.”

“Yes, I remember. That’s why I’m not allowed to keep fruit at my desk,” you say dismissively. 

Historia unfortunately polices this rule very closely. Hmm, maybe you can ask if she can help you with your receipts? Unlikely, as Levi runs a tight ship with her, knowing his agents, meaning you, will take advantage of her whenever possible. 

“Tell me he’s kidding about being my new partner,” you ask, already knowing the answer.

“Think of it this way. We were having trouble finding a replacement for Mikasa. Two birds, one stone,” your boss replies.

You groan as you longingly think about your former partner. Mikasa was amazing. Literally everything you wanted. Reliable, deadly, proactive, and a dry wit you were practically giddy for.

You still selfishly curse Jean sometimes for knocking her up. Their pregnancy was a happy surprise that came only months after their wedding celebration. 

They did have a beautiful wedding though. You and your team were of course invited and you fondly relive those memories.

Jean switched on his papa bear instincts real fast, especially when it turned out Mikasa was at risk for pregnancy complications. So she was pulled from the field immediately and was ordered to work from home on bedrest when she entered her third trimester. 

“What if I refuse?” you challenge your superior, narrowing your eyes. Although you threaten insubordination around Levi often, you both know you’re full of shit and won’t do it. 

“You won’t. Also, come into my office. We need to talk about your latest mission,” Levi orders, already making his way there.

And so, the ass-spreading begins.

Not in a good way.

You sit there and try your best not to show the disappointment that was growing in the pits of your belly as Levi spares no expense in berating you. 

You hated it when you didn’t meet Levi’s expectations. It rarely ever happens, so when it does, it wounds your pride more than anything else.

Levi pulls every gut-punching vocab he stashed away in his pocket for occasions like this. Words like “useless” when he described your failed attempt, “wasted” meaning all the months you spent dedicating yourself to this project, and “idiot” meaning you and all your carelessness. You silently muse that this is on par with the verbal lashing Jean received for nearly starting a civil war during his mission in one of the Middle Eastern territories that are currently living through their own disputes. 

Receiving disappointment from Levi was way worse than disappointing your own father who thought you were working a boring but safe job as a lowly program assistant for Paradis' Department of State. He expected bigger prospects for yourself, but no way in hell you're disclosing that you decided to pursue a life in espionage. His heart doesn't need that.

Despite being dragged through the mud, what pains you the most is not fully understanding just how Eren was one step ahead of you and knew to expect you that day. You could have sworn you meticulously covered your tracks.

In a twisted turn of events, Eren is here to divulge his (former) country's secrets so your team will eventually get that intel. 

But as the facts stand, you were gone for two months hiding undercover in an enemy nation after several more months of reconnaissance work. And you walked away with nothing to show for it.

Understandably, Levi was less than pleased. 

"I didn't go with you because you made it clear you had it," Levi finishes with slow emphasis.

Your heart sinks lower in your chest and your body shrinks reflectively.

Levi doesn't pull himself into the field often and you were vehemently against him going overseas with you. It would have looked too suspicious. The veteran agent was nearly infamous among the intelligence community and often passed missions onto his trusted team of hand-picked agents. Jean is the only other field agent on your team and he was too busy juggling his own missions so you had convinced Levi into making this a solo assignment.

But maybe you would have come home with the files you needed if Levi had joined you.

"I fucked up. I won't do it again,” you admit solemnly. Your way of apologizing.

"You won't,” your boss repeats, in a more icy tone. His way of forgiving.

He shifts his stance against his desk, “While Eren is here, you'll oversee him and dig deeper into what he gives us."

Your pulse chills.

“Why again am I in charge of him?” you exasperate. 

“Because you don’t trust him at all. Report back to me on a weekly basis about anything that can be even misconstrued as suspicious, ” Levi instructs with no room for negotiation.

You exhale a deep breath, rubbing your temples, but can’t argue with him.

It’s true. Out of everyone on your team, you’re the toughest to crack. Jean ultimately has a solid heart of gold under his crass demeanor. Marco is honest to god an _awful_ liar, thus better suited as a desk agent though he’s a damn good one. Armin is your team’s incredible remote operator. You would rather jump into a vat of acid than remove him from his post.

“You got it boss,” you say, crossing your arms and tucking your chin. Your version of an adult temper tantrum. 

He dismisses you with a quick flick of his wrists and you feel almost a sense of relief, preferring to slave over your endless receipts instead.

Just as you were about to slip out the door, he calls for your attention once more. 

“What is it?” you ask, peering over your shoulder at the somber man. 

“Don’t fuck the brat.” 

“Gross, Levi.”

Maybe the malice in your voice was meant to convince yourself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!


End file.
